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Lex tightened his grip as they picked up the pace, the horse shifting into a gallop. The cawing sound coming from the Owl made him want to just drop under the hooves of the mount right there, but he didn't. Doubtless they were all getting a bit freaked out by this.

"Yeah, crows. "Biggest blackbirds you'll ever see in your life. Freakier than ever, huh?" he murmured, unable to decide whether it would be best to put his hands over Jameel's ears, eyes, or mouth.

Jameel cawed again, a demented grin on his face. He was going mad, watching the world dissolve before his eyes into black feathers and beaks. The faster they rode, the more things started to blur, becoming one big, crowing entity. They won't shut up! The Master Assassin wanted to laugh and scream at the same time. He tried covering his ears, but it only served to marginally muffle the crowing; he clawed at them.

"They won't stop crowing... Make them stop..." The Sparrow reached up and covered his ears. Jameel clamped onto his hands with his own so that Lex was afraid for a minute that some of his fingers might come away broken when he let go. Ahead of them, Desmond tightened his hold on the reins as the mountains came into view. Altair touched his descendant's shoulder.

"I'll ride ahead and inform Malik of what's happened." The barkeep nodded, then looked to the two Germans. The brothers nodded as well and the Grandmaster rode on. As this was going on, Jameel's birds had stopped crowing and resorted to staring at their victim. Each one of them had shiny, golden yellow coins for eyes.

One of the crows began to cackle at him. The other crows followed in with laughter of their own.

"They won't stop... Just...won't stop... How they stare, how they laugh..." Jameel made a low, whining noise as Lex's hands were removed from his ears, the mad chuckling filling his hearing in full. Lex tore a piece of black cloth from his tunic and tied it over his eyes, wincing as the man dug his nails into his back.

"It's just like night training, remember?" asked the younger man as he replaced his hands once more over the Red Owl's ears. The blindfold made the illusions no better. He may not have been able to see them, but he could still hear them. Laughing. That's always it. They're always laughing. He couldn't block it out; the laughter wasn't in his ears, but echoing in his head. Jameel rocked back and forth in the saddle, trying to maintain some scrap of sanity. "Jameel, remember that, night training in the courtyard? How Dessy kept running into the wall?"

"Night training... Night... Birds... Birds... So many birds, laughing at me..." Jameel screamed through gritted teeth. "Stop laughing at me!"

"Make him hold on a little longer, Spaetzlein, we're almost there!" called Gilbert. Lex worked his way up onto his knees, pulling the blindfold up from Jameel's eyes and looking into them.

"Don't look at them. Don't listen to them. Don't even think about 'em. Think about here. Here, right now, right in front of you." He leaned up and kissed him deeply, keeping a tight hold on him as he rocked.

Jameel shook as the laughter faded away. It was like he'd started awake from a bad dream and only just realized that it was over. Everything started to come into focus as they passed through the gates of the Assassins' village. If Desmond had noticed, he would have told him the future jargon for what had happened: the trip was over. The drug had burned itself out.

That was...terrible. So much power into such a simple mixture. Jameel shuddered at the possibility of ever having to go through something similar again. The Ravenwatch Grandmaster has too much power in his hands. He has to be stopped somehow. His thoughts petered out as he felt his lips return the kiss. Lex pulled back as Desmond dismounted and went to see what was taking Altair and Malik so long, saying to the other Novice, who didn't look half as perplexed as his brother, "Take care of them until I get back."

Gilbert nodded and settled a hand on the merchant's shoulder. Tancred turned to face him, mouth open. He shut it with a soft click.

"No, brother," said the Novice with a small shake of his head, "it's not just the sailors who do these things."

"You're okay now, right?" His eyes flicked back to the one sitting in front of him. Lex met his eyes, a tremor passing through him as he pulled the Owl into a fierce embrace and allowed himself to relax. It was then that the full impact of the last few hours, and his wounds, fell on him. "s**t...s**t..." He grasped at the Master Assassin weakly as he began to fall off the horse.

He braced to hit the ground, but a pair of arms stopped his fall.

"Ich habe dich, du halbe Portion." Lex looked over at Tancred as the merchant took him carefully down the rest of the way as Gilbert reached up and helped Jameel dismount. The Red Owl nearly fell off of the horse himself. What a trip this has been... Castles and birds and poisons and guns...

Halfway up the slope to the keep, they were met by Malik, Altair, and Desmond. The men continued on to the infirmary together. Desmond pulled up a chair as the servants began to tend to all of them. Gilbert set Jameel on the bed as Tancred did likewise with Lex.

Lex blanched as one of the servants came over to him and stripped off his clothes to get at the bullet wounds beneath. Now that the last of the adrenaline had worn off, he felt groggy and nauseous, especially at the sight of where he'd been shot.

"Nobody's cutting my limbs off. I swear to--to--God! God!" He screamed as an instrument that was more blacksmiths tongs than doctor's forsips was thrust into his leg and the bullet extracted. Malik quickly stuffed a bit of sheet into his mouth for him to bite down on. Despite the supposed help he was being given with this treatment, the pain was still great. After the device was taken from his arm, Lex dropped onto his back and fell into an exhausted sleep.

Jameel sighed as the cries finally abated, a hand reaching over to stroke the smaller man's head. His eyes found Desmond, who was being looked over by Malik for any possible adverse effects left by the drug he'd been given, before moving to Lex. His eyes fell to where the Novice and informant were treating their minor wounds and finally onto Altair. The Grandmaster Eagle looked him over once.

"How are you feeling, old friend? Well enough now?"

"Do you want me to answer honestly, Altair?" A nod. "I've been beaten, poisoned, and had to watch those I care for receive much the same treatment by a madman with feathers for hair. I feel like s**t, in short, and I would much appreciate it if you left me in peace and asked this question again when my legs and arms aren't numb so I can hit you properly for asking it." The Red Owl had made his point well. He looked as ragged as he said he felt. The aftermath of the drug would be as killer as the beginning and during stages and he was stretched to his absolute limit as it was. I need to call mercy here. Anymore of this punishment and I will go mad.

"What about getting us home?" asked Desmond suddenly. The other men looked at the younger Eagle. "Those crystals we took from Ephesus might get us back. We should be testing them. They could be our only way home." Tancred was the first to reach Jameel to push him down to the bed, but it took Gilbert's help to get him to lie back.

The Red Owl had mustered the last vestiges of his strength sit upright and snarl, "Desmond, we're not testing it now. We're not testing it here. And I'll be thrice damned if you so much as mention those things in my presence again while I'm confined to the same room as you, and you'll be short a tongue!" Silence reigned as the man gave the lot of conscious Assassins a baleful glare before falling asleep.

"Well, Novice, get to your haystack." Desmond glowered at the one-armed Master as Malik smirked. "You don't want to be in his way if he needs to relieve himself, do you?" Grumbling, the barkeep stood and went to his hay. Like it or not, it was a good idea. Enough of this s**t. I'm going to sleep too.


Two days. Two days is not long enough, he thought to himself as he made his way step by painful, pins-and-needles step toward his room. The other Masters had begun to harry him after the first day of sleep. Jameel gripped the wall and dug in with his nails. That night, he had asked Gilbert to send for his wife.

"Take him to my quarters, please," he'd said, gesturing to where the Sparrow had lain curled on his side. "I'd do it myself, but..." He held up his fists and closed them, opening them again. They felt fat and useless. "I'll follow as quickly as I'm able."

"I would offer my services, Sayyid," the woman had responded, bowing her head. "At least until your companion is well enough to nurse you himself." Jameel had accepted, however grudgingly. At least Sarah wasn't unfamiliar with the art of silence. Now it was taking every ounce of concentration and will left in him to make the familiar walk to his room.

Jameel finally staggered through the doorway, kicking the door shut behind him. Fortune favored him at least in that his body was healing faster than the arsenic could break it down. He would be good as new in no time, however long no time would be. For now, little to no energy was required for sleeping. That's all I want. To sleep. He dropped to the bed and promptly blacked out again into the void behind his eyelids. His sleep had been mercifully dreamless since his crow hallucination.


Lex sighed as he woke and looked at the sunlit ceiling. This gray, stone ceiling was more familiar than the ceiling of his old bedroom, he realized. What the hell did that one look like again? He reached back in his mind for the image. White, that was the color. White from painted plaster, white like the Assassin's tunics. White because he hadn't wanted to paint it the same color as the rest of his room. Taking a roller to the ceiling would've been too much of a hassle.

The Sparrow opened his eyes and turned them, letting his head follow. First to the right. There was the wall. To the left, and he felt his neck pop. Oww. There was Jameel, asleep, one hand on his shoulder, head pressed down against his neck. He reached over and settled a hand on the Owl's head, a smile then allowed to creep onto his features. What do we look like without bandages and splints and crap? he wondered silently.


Jameel alternated his first week of healing between the dark void of his dreamless rounds of sleep. It was slightly unnerving to go from complete, utter blackness and nothing to the almost dazzlingly bright reality of his room, but he supposed it was for the best. After a week, he'd almost become used to it.

During the week, he'd often caught Lex watching him as he slept. The Journeyman's eyes were usually glued to his chest, as if he feared that it might stop its steady rise and fall if he looked away for a single moment. Does he piss out the window or not at all? the Master Assassin wondered once after waking to see the other male dancing on the spot, one eye on him, the other on the door, his legs clamped together, one hand over them. He was doing so now--watching, not dancing like a fool--albeit dozily.

The younger man blinked his dry eyes as he felt a hand against his cheek.

"Lex," said a voice he half-heard.

"Hm? Jameel?" he croaked, finally recognizing who was speaking to him. The tall man's face came into focus piece by piece: hair, eyes, nose, mouth, the rest. "Whazzup? We under attack? Desmond drinking cactus juice?"

"You don't have to watch me. I'm not the only one in need of rest."

"That an order?"

"Merely a suggestion." Lex smiled lopsidedly as he felt a set of lips brush against his cheek. "Tnam, habibi." He nodded, cheeks dusted pink, as he continued to have the world's most futile staring contest with the Owl for a few minutes before his eyes shut. No matter how much he wanted to stay up, his body refused. Weary, that's the word, he thought before his brain shut the book on his thoughts. Yeah. Weary...


Gilbert watched the snow drift down. The wind had died down since that night's storm, during which they'd succeeded in getting Desmond out of his haystack and into their guest room. Even if he, his wife, and Amir had to pile the floor with hay so that the man would stop whimpering and looking out the window toward the barbican like a lost dog.

The Novice stood and went to where Amir stumbled from his room, rubbing his eyes. The white streak in his hair was bright against his black hair, made brighter by the reflected sunlight from the white drifts outside. Taking the boy by the hand, he led him to where his wife usually knelt to give her prayers.

Once the family had been reunited after his return to Masyaf, Gilbert had taken time to get to know the adoptive son Malik had provided him. The boy didn't know how to read or write or pray, but Gilbert had seen how fearless he was. The night before Air had done a cartwheel off the wooden watchtower before running back home. The Novice had decided to set to remedying the last as Malik did the other two.

Kneeling with Amir, Gilbert the small crucifix from around his neck and held it between his clasped hands. He bowed his head and shut his eyes. Amir watched him for a moment before mimicking the position.

"Repeat after me, Tannenmeise," he murmured. "Vater unser der Du bist im Himmel..."

"Vater...unser...der Du bist im Himmel..." Amir repeated.

"Geheiligt werde Dein Name, Dein Reich komme, Dein Wille geschehe wie im Himmel als auch auf Erden."

The prayer continued on until both said, "Amen." Gilbert opened his eyes and looked at Amir, who was smiling at him widely. The German settled a hand on the boy's head, looking up quickly when he heard something muffled outside. Standing, he looked toward his brother as Tancred came over to them, scrubbing the sleep from his eyes.

"Which b*****d out there is murdering our language?" groaned the merchant as he swiped at his face. "Let me have them, Brother, I'll see them out of our way." He opened the door and looked down at the boy who stood there, humming, "Oh, tannen baum, oh, tannen baum, wie--Oh, hey, Tancred."

"What in God's name are you doing out here in the cold? And why are you singing about a tree of all things?" The merchant blinked as the boy simply smiled at him. "Well? Has resting up from that insanity with the Black Cloaks addled your brain?"

"Dude, don't you know what day it is?" Lex stared at him as if he'd lost his mind, his cheeks flushed, eyes bright. For a moment, the man wondered if the boy hadn't done so himself, or if he was simply taken with fever. "It's Christmas!" He held out a package. "Merry Christmas, man." The merchant stared at the package. "It's a present, stupid. Take it."

Tancred snatched up the package with a muttered series of curses until he'd pushed aside the parchment that wrapped the gift and found inside sticks of hashish. Well, they looked like sticks of hashish. The Assassins' herb had been rolled up inside of small pieces of parchment. He smirked into his beard. "These are for smoking?" A nod. "My personal use, I take it, unless I'm feeling generous?" Another nod. Lex was lifted from the snow briefly as an arm looped around him. "Dankeschoen, Jungchen."

"Ahk!" The next moment the Sparrow was on the floor, hugging onto Amir, the boy having tackled him down.

"Easy, ahk al-sagheer. I'm still getting better." He ruffled up the other's hair. "Can I see Gilbert for a minute?"

"What's going on?" Gilbert asked as he helped Lex up. Lex held out a small bag.

"Merry Christmas, Gilly."

"More Lebkuchen?" Gilbert blanched.

"I used your mom's recipe this time. Don't worry. They won't spontaneously combust on your face or anything," said Lex, hands held up as well as could be with the bag still clutched in one.

"What'd you say, kid?" Desmond poked his head from where he had been in his hay.

"Merry Christmas, Dessy-Desmond."

"Christmas? It's Christmas already?" The Novice sighed and walked over to where the other time traveler stood. He stooped and pulled him into a quick hug. "Thanks for reminding me, kid. Lex." Lex looked up at a tug on his hood. Amir pouted at him as if to say, "Where's my present?" Lex held out his arms again, offering another hug. The boy buried himself into his chest as he hugged onto him. The Sparrow looked up at Sarah, who'd come over to see just what was going on. He smiled and freed one of his arms from Amir, inviting her in. "C'mon, Sis."

"Where's my love?" Desmond whined.

"Shut up, you have your hay," said Tancred flatly as he watched Lex turn toward the door.

"Where are you going, Spaetzlein?"

"Gotta give Jameel his present, don't I?" Lex grinned and took off toward the keep, slogging through the shin-deep snow.

"That boy is an odd one, Yameen, but I see why you like him," said Sarah as she and her husband watched his mentor walk off.



"Merry Christmas, Jameel." The Master Assassin lowered his book and lifted a brow languidly. It had taken weeks, but finally he was fighting fit and healed. It was a blessing to be able to touch something and not have his fingers tingle from the poison that had been put into his veins. When he had felt himself strong enough, the man had gone out and performed a Leap of Faith for the first time in...what, a month? Maybe two? Three at most?

It felt good to stretch his metaphorical wings in such a way, despite the steadily progressing training he had begun after the end of his first week of healing to gain back the strength and muscle that being bed-ridden would otherwise rob from him. There had been no activity from Ravenwatch either to be heard of, so the man guessed they'd gone underground again for a time. Still, it feels good to be me again.

"When did you become a Christian?" Jameel shut the book and leaned forward, an arm propped on one of his crossed legs, chin on his fist. Lex's grinning face shifted to brow-pinched perplexity.

"Huh?"

"Christmas. You're a Christian then?"

"No, it's...it's just Christmas. It's what we do."

"We?"

"Yeah...we. Americans."

"Americans are all Christian then?"

"Wha--the--wha--" Lex gripped his head and took a long breath. Jameel chuckled and ruffled up the smaller one's hair. "No, they're not all Christians. Just the vast majority. So much so that Christmas is sort of a national holiday."

"So you're Christian?"

"No, I'm not Christian!" Lex laughed helplessly. "I should smack you."

"You're the one who let himself be flustered. But what were you going to say before we went off on this little religious discussion?"

Lex opened his mouth, then shut it before he mumbled ashamedly, "I forgot."

Jameel shook his head and poked Lex's forehead.

"What am I going to do with you if thoughts start flying from your head?"

"Want to play a game?" Jameel frowned.

"What sort of game?"

"Take off your robes."

"What is this, Lex?" Jameel asked, but did as told, Lex doing the same. Hoods and overtunics were shed, as were belts. Jameel was left in black pants and his long-sleeved white tunic, and brown boots. Lex glanced down at the clothing on his body and felt a little sore at not having his T-shirt and jeans anymore--those had been stripped off him in the Crow's Nest and he hadn't thought to retrieve them. Lex stood.

"Up." Jameel looked at him. "Yallah." Sighing, the taller man stood. He staggered, startled, as he was pressed against the wall. Lex kissed him hard, tongue sliding into his mouth. His surprise fled. Jameel matched Lex with his own ravenous kiss, grinning after he pulled away.

"The Sparrow's getting sneakier. I'm teaching you well. Either that, or I'm letting my guard down more."

"Heh. Yeah." Lex smiled, tugging at Jameel's tunic. It slid away from beneath his fingers as he tilted his head down and kissed his way from the man's throat to the scars on his chest. Jameel reached down, cupping his face between his hands as he kissed him, speaking between little pecks.

"You're the only one I'll allow to startle me like that."

"Yeah..." Lex smirked, gripping at his a** before passing his hands higher to curl into his back. A shiver raced up his back as their hips pressed together; a light flush ghosted over his face. "That offer still stands, y'know. Doing whatever you want."

Jameel pressed him closer.

"Let's have some fun."

The Sparrow could've sworn he felt his heart thudding away against his ribs. He nodded.

"Sounds great." Lex slid off his shirt and dropped it into the pile with the rest of their robes, stood on one foot and pulled off a boot and sock, then the other. He held out his arms invitingly. "Your turn. Or do you want some help?"

"You're a tease, little bird." Jameel let his eyes roam over the younger man and noted he'd tanned and filled out nicely. Received some scars as well, evidenced immediately by the white patch of skin at his shoulder where he'd been shot. His hands traced their way up the smaller man's legs, running his fingertips along his inner thigh before bringing them up to his shoulders to rub slow circles there. Lips met again, his leg pressing between Lex's. He drew back just as easily, a grin spread wide across his face almost from one ear to the other. "I can be mischievous too."

"Goddamn it, c'mon!" Lex groaned, voice a husky rasp as he pulled the Assassin over and pinned him down onto the bed. His breathing quickened as he straddled his hips, foreheads pressed together, eyes to eyes. "You're the tease..." He kissed his lips. "Jerking..." Kissed down his chest. "...Me around..." Licked at his belly, then switched his tongue for teeth, nipping at him.

Damn. Who's teasing whom at this point? Jameel loosed a soft groan as he felt his blood rush southward. Has he done this before? It feels like it.

"Go on, Lex. Get vicious on me. You've been waiting for this for weeks, haven't you?" I certainly have.

"Hell yes I have," the Sparrow growled, leaning toward Jameel's side and nipping and sucking, biting harder as he moved down his hips. He bucked suddenly, the ache between his legs growing. Jameel grunted, digging his nails into the bed as Lex settled his cheek against his hip, running his fingers from his throat to the growing bulge in his pants. "Want more, Jameel?" He sat up on his knees, pulling his own pants down low on his hips. A smirk curled the edges of his lips. "Your turn. I wanna see what you can do. Take those off." He stood and in one fluid motion had removed the last stitches of clothing, tossing them aside.

That was the cue. The last fiber of rope severed. Now the animal was loose. Jameel removed the rest of his clothing, pouncing on Lex. He nibbled, nipped, kissed, and licked at Lex's skin, ears to belly, wherever he could find a place he hadn't touched before, drawing his legs up over his hips. He paused long enough to grab a small vial of blade oil, rubbing it onto himself and Lex. "What--what is that?"

"Blade oil." The Journeyman stared at him. "I don't have anything else on hand." He leaned his head down, licking at each of the hard nubs on Lex's chest in turn as he pressed into him. Lex sucked in a breath sharply, back arching. Jameel bit down softly as he began to move, smirking against his skin as he felt his lover's breathing quickening.

His eyes fluttering shut for a moment, Lex began to buck back against Jameel, countering his movements wherever he could. He lifted his arms up and twined them around him, fingers twisting into his sweat dampened hair and back as their bodies pressed together. Lex bit at his ear, groaning into it just to arouse him further. He did it again, whispering with it, "Why not show this more often?"

"Shut up and let's dance," came the husky reply. Lex shuddered as he felt Jameel's tongue run along the outer shell of his own ear, teeth following it. He obliged, shutting up and continuing the dance, but for a few soft moans that escaped him. Jameel's lips travelled along his body, leaving small marks that would show clearly in the morning as they passed over the Sparrow's skin, mouth ringing with the taste of salt.

Lex opened his mouth to accept his tongue again, following it back to the Owl's and running his along the roof of his mouth. The taller man's blue eyes rolled upward before he trapped his tongue with his teeth until they were forced to part for air. Hands guided him onto his knees, back pressing to Jameel's chest as he began to pick up his pace, an arm around his waist, the other fitted around him, moving in strong, fluid strokes, the rough skin of his fingertips sending shivers crawling up to the base of his skull, rough panting in his ear. "Does this please you?"

"Sh-shut up and keep dancing with me." Lex quieted again, letting himself get lost in his lover and their actions.

Of course, every good moment had to come to an end sometime. It had been hours of this special dance, and Jameel felt he couldn't possibly love Lex even more without his heart exploding on him. Lex clung to him, kissing every place he could reach. "I love you. I love you. I love you." Their eyes locked. The two relaxed with a single shudder. Jameel laid down next to the Sparrow, tired from the pleasant events. That was fantastic. Absolutely fantastic.

"I love you, Lex." He put his entire heart and soul into the words, into the moment, striving against the thoughts that threatened to clamor to the fore of his mind. That this would make it even harder to part now. That when the time came, he would have to let him go. That he might never see him again. That he didn't want Lex to leave. Jameel stamped the thoughts down furiously, beating them back. Lex didn't have to leave. If he wants to stay, he can stay. If he wants to become a Master, then by all means, let him. I wouldn't mind the extra company. As selfish as that sounded, some part of his mind put in. I've earned my little sense of selfishness, and these thoughts be damned! The thoughts were pushed aside like so much useless straw as he heard Lex say, "You too, Jameel."

Lex turned onto his side, nestling into the Owl's chest and twining the fingers of their hands over his belly. He felt his heart slowing to a reasonable, still fast pace, heard the same tattoo beating against his ear beneath his lover's breast. Shifting his other arm up, he settled his arm around Jameel's shoulder, fingers clutching at his hair as he took a long breath, as if to breath him in. He blinked as Jameel pulled him the rest of the way on top of him, head pressed under the Red Owl's chin.

A soft laugh escaped him. "Tired."

"Sleep, then." Jameel allowed Lex to burrow deeper into his arms, cuddling him like a stuffed toy as he drifted to sleep. A pleasant surprise awaited him in his dreams, none of them nightmares. The nightmares were gone. His mind couldn't even attempt to drum one up, not that it wanted to do so. His thoughts revolved around the young man in his arms and their dance.

It wasn't until the middle of the next day that Jameel awoke, skin still pleasantly warm from the body beside him. What a great sleep that was. He turned onto his belly and laid his head on Lex's chest, unwilling to move, but feeling he had to move. The energy he felt inside of him denied anything else. He dressed silently, stretching out his muscles that felt as if they didn't need stretching and never would again.

Lex stirred as the warmth left his side, rubbing at his face and eyes as he propped himself on an elbow. He looked up at Jameel and smiled.

"Sleep well?" A nod. He shifted to a sit and grabbed his pants, pulling them on. He picked up his tunic and slid it back on. Reaching for the rest of his robes, he sought to bring them over his head, but found they were twisted and caught on his back. He spun around in a circle in an effort to tug the clothing down beyond his shoulderblades. "What, no help?" He laughed at his own futile attempts.

Jameel took him by the shoulders and stopped his spinning, straightening his robes with a quick series of jerks. Reaching down, he picked up the Sparrow's belt and slipped it around the smaller man's waist, pulling him into a kiss.

"Was that your first time?"

"Yeah." The man's blue eyes widened in disbelief. "I'm not shitting you." Smiling and shaking his head, Jameel kissed him again before releasing him to walk down the halls. Lex had helped him get back on his feet after so many years of struggle. Now he had a new resolve, a new goal, a new want to survive. All thanks to my Sparrow.

Lex smiled as he cinched his belt and followed after Jameel as he walked toward the tower, taking the Red Owl's hand--his Owl's hand.